Love
by RebeccaLadd
Summary: Inspired by the unforgettable song, L-O-V-E. Not a song fic. A story in Four parts.
1. Lily's Eyes

**L.**

Her eyes were greener than the grass she laid on. Her head was in his lap, those beautiful eyes looking straight at him. She was the only one who had ever looked at him like that. He knew she cared about him, and that she didn't mind his caring about her. It was all in her eyes. Her eyes had always been so welcome. Like the gates to a secret world, known only to them. And he loved it. He reveled in the knowledge that someone had a world they shared with only him. It was a secret for two, the first in a long line of secrets.

The moment she looked at him, he was hooked for life. Loving her meant loving her eyes. And her eyes were like a drug. The more he saw the more he needed. When she married, he thought the addiction would disappear, just as she had. But it hadn't. Of course it hadn't. Taking an alcoholic's vice didn't affect the want, except maybe to make it worse.

When she died, he thought the addiction would have to leave. Just as her eyes closed forever, that chapter of his life could close too. But her eyes never did leave. For eleven years he was clean. Sobered by necessity, until her son came back for him. They claimed it was for school, but he knew why the boy was back. It was haunting him. His worst enemy, a mere child.

He might very well have been crazy. He had enough reasons didn't he? But the old man wouldn't accept that he was crazy. So he stayed, and remembered the looks that had led him to new worlds long ago.

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Part One of a four part series of very short one-shots. Reviews are always nice.


	2. A Heart Full of Love

**L.**

**O.**

When she had walked in that ballroom his heart jumped. Even on the arm of some brute, she was radiant. Her bushy hair was tamed, not that he thought it made much of a difference. He looked at his plain clothing. A black dress robe, a pair of black boots. Few students had the ability to examine materials properly. They would never know how he had struggled with the decision, and all for her sake. He regretted that now. He should have done something different, flashier. Perhaps that lovely witch would have noticed at him if he had.

But how was he supposed to know she had gotten beautiful in a few hours. She had been the same old frumpy know-it-all yesterday. He had been the same bitter, aging man in love with a pair of eyes. Now she was an alluring Siren, ready to drive the bitter, old man up another cliff. This time he knew the fall would hurt.

He knew that no kind- hearted witch sat on some ledge waiting to catch him. No one would pull out their wand to cushion his fall. It would be fast, hard, painful, and impossible to walk away from. Yet he would climb that mountain anyway. The girl would never know of his feelings. She would grow up and marry the Weasley boy. He could see it already in the way the ginger was glaring at the dancing couple. He knew the glare well. He had felt it when he was a boy, and he felt it now.

She would grow up and be happy, and never quite forget her Machiavellian professor. But slowly his memory would fade. She would be just like the other one. Turned away at the slightest misspoken word. But for now he could focus on _her_. The one who was so alive. It sent a thrill through his chest. Her very youth was reason enough to love her. And love her he did.

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Part Two of a four part series of very short one-shots. Reviews are always nice.


	3. At the End of the Day

**L.**

**O.**

**V.**

There was nothing ordinary about her. She was both clever and smart. He knew many smart wizards, and many clever witches. But it was rare that he found a combination of the two. He was glad about that. Being merely clever was a waste of brain. His godson was a perfect example of this. The boy knew what he had to do to get around obscure obstacles, but place a common problem in front of him and he was useless.

The green-eyed devil boy was a poster child for the smart wizard without a cunning thought in his mind . The boy could certainly make the most out of most situations. He was straight forward, even to a fault. And that was his problem. He could not for the life of him understand why sometimes you went behind the backs of those you loved most. He understood protecting them, but not protecting himself. In Snape's experience, that was a fatal flaw.

The glorious young witch knew the benefits of both. Had she not gotten past his logical puzzle in her first year? Had she not sent her parents to Australia? He knew as well as she did that it wasn't only for their good. One can't fight the most powerful wizard in the world while worrying about the safety of a relative.

Yes she was clever, she was smart, and she was beautiful in the way that can only be achieved by looking unusual. Most of all though, she was compassionate. He had seen her comforting all her friends at some point. They trusted her to love them no matter what, and she obliged. Her forgiveness was a vice he approved of. Besides, she really was a lovely girl.

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Part Three of a four part series of very short one-shots. Reviews are always nice.


	4. He Wanted To Say

**L.**

**O.**

**V.**

**E. **

She cared for him at least a little. He was sure of it. None of the little mind games that the green-eyed deviless had brought with her. The girl was genuine. She had told him so in the home of that mad-man friend of Potter's. He had been staring into the fire, and she sitting next to him. She looked at him gently. How long had it been since someone looked at him gently? She put her hand over his, and ignored his flinch. She seemed to understand that it had been a while. Her soft finger traced circles on his palm, and she whispered the words that gave him more pain than any had in a while. She had whispered, "I love you.". It had been frank and simply put, without any apology.

His pulse had begun to race. It was like falling in love again, except that he hadn't been in love with anyone before. At least, it hadn't felt like this. This was real, and reciprocated. He didn't have to rely on the comfortable status of their relationship to keep her to himself. He leaned in towards her. She raised her chin a little and let her lips meet his. And so he had his first kiss.

He could feel his eyes betraying him, and had retreated to his room quickly; but not before a tear landed on her hand. His very own gift to her, the girl who cared for him.

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Part Three of a four part series of very short one-shots. Reviews are always nice.


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